Say Goodbye: An FBI Profiler Novel
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
The bestselling author of Hide and Gone draws us into the venomous mind games of a terrifying killer.
Come into my parlor . . .
For Kimberly Quincy, FBI Special Agent, it all starts with a pregnant hooker. The story Delilah Rose tells Kimberly about her johns is too horrifying to be true—but prostitutes are disappearing, one by one, with no explanation, and no one but Kimberly seems to care.
Said the spider to the fly . . .
As a member of the Evidence Response Team, dead hookers aren’t exactly Kimberly’s specialty. The young agent is five months pregnant—she has other things to worry about than an alleged lunatic who uses spiders to do his dirty work. But Kimberly’s own mother and sister were victims of a serial killer. And now, without any bodies and with precious few clues, it’s all too clear that a serial killer has found the key to the perfect murder . . . or Kimberly is chasing a crime that never happened.
Kimberly’s caught in a web more lethal than any spider’s, and the more she fights for answers, the more tightly she’s trapped. What she doesn’t know is that she’s close—too close—to a psychopath who makes women’ s nightmares come alive, and if he has his twisted way, it won’t be long before it’ s time for Kimberly to . . .
From the Hardcover edition.
sex. Rita just wanted to be Rita. So she settled into the little house she bought with Donny’s death benefit. She grew a garden. She built a front patio. And when the loneliness grew too much, she did the last thing in the world anyone expected her to do: She became a foster mom. She took in kids for nearly twenty years, from squalling infants to sullen ten-year-olds. She would pick them up at the local Chick-fil-A, their worldly possessions filling a single black Hefty bag, easily tossed in the
more Stephen King than true crime. What’s with you, anyway? You keep calling me and calling me, and yet you refuse to tell me anything useful.” “Calling you?” Ginny shook her head again. “I already told you. I haven’t seen Dinchara since we last spoke. I haven’t had any reason to call you.” “Come on, dialing me up, making me listen to that audio recording of your mother—” “You heard the tape?” The girl seemed genuinely surprised, then perked up. “So you know, then! You know I’m not making this
the old oak tree, swinging himself up just as he used to do when they were kids. Joseph spent the afterlife forever young. She wondered if that was because he died young, or if it was a choice each spirit was allowed to make. She was tired, she thought. Tired of the ache in her joints, the way the chill of a winter morning bit so deep into her wrinkled flesh. Not much time left, she figured. All the more reason to spend it wisely. “When your parents died,” she asked, “did you have any other
below. “Who?” Sal demanded. He stood in front of her, rain pouring down his nose, plastering his dark hair to his face. He looked intent, angry in a way that should have scared her, except she understood that kind of rage, how it felt when you were trying so hard, only to realize that your best wouldn’t get the job done. “Ron. Dinchara and the boys are local. They have to be. Ron said it himself: They don’t buy much, so they must already be well supplied.” “Kimberly, it’s wet, it’s cold, I’m
she was crazy. All these years later, like some chick with a badge is really gonna make a difference. Guess it doesn’t matter anymore. You failed, so here I am. Me and my little friend, just like Al Pacino said. Ready to get the job done.” “Please, Dinchara will never let either of you go. You help him dispose of the bodies. Ginny earns him cash. Why would he ever let you graduate?” “He’s got a replacement—” “A young kid! Too small to help haul a body.” “We put them on litters. Drag ’em up.